


Seeing the sun

by Crimsun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimsun/pseuds/Crimsun
Summary: Sixteen incidents. Sixteen members. A bonus. One sun and narrator Mark.Or, that fic set in canon universe, tracing the ways in which Donghyuck takes care of the members ft. Mark.





	Seeing the sun

**Author's Note:**

> For Full Sun. 
> 
> PS : I've taken creative liberty with canon events so I apologize in advance for the inconsistencies.

_Watch him._

Mark is familiar with that voice in his head, uttering these words that have unfailingly become one of the maxims of his nineteen-year journey on earth.

It’s an understatement, Mark thinks, the word “watch” that is, because he doesn’t really _watch_ Donghyuck, not in the plain way that most people look at him, never like that, never like his little movements and actions are supposed to be forgotten seconds later. Instead, Mark tries his best, tries his hardest in fact, to _see_ Donghyuck because he _deserves_ to be _seen_ , because he becomes the brightest star in Mark’s galaxy, in anyone’s galaxy to be honest, when he’s looked at with the softest of gazes, pure adoration and nothing else filling up the expanse of the beholder’s heart.

Donghyuck is staring out the window of their van, the beige seat he’s leaning back on making his golden skin look washed out, glow faded. His youthful visage is lacking all the zeal one often showers upon the sunny boy but even then, he’s beautiful, Mark always finds himself thinking, in that understated, sublime way. If Mark was acquainted with only watching him, he would just see a tired boy, perhaps he would detect a little disappointment too but that’s not what he is accustomed to, not what he has learnt over the years so he knows that the wan expression on Donghyuck’s face is from the ugly voices screaming should have done betters inside his head.

Mark would reach out, walk and settle down on the empty seat next to him, would put an arm out and try and fail in inconspicuously rubbing his knee but it’s not one of those days when Donghyuck craves the touch, when he would mould himself against someone’s chest or cling to their biceps like a starved boy. Instead, it’s one of those days when Donghyuck stares out the window until they reach the dorms and then proceed to speed walk to Dream’s dorm, finding just enough energy in him to tell Taeyong that he won’t be coming back to the 127 dorm tonight.

“Mark?” Jaehyun’s voice is low, almost a whisper.

Mark turns to face him and arranges his face in an expression he hopes conveys the _What_? echoing in the recesses of his mind. Jaehyun throws a worried glance at Donghyuck and looks back at him again.

“Is he okay?” Jaehyun asks, his left eye an angry red from constant poking and prodding, irritated even further from the lack of sleep.

“He will be,” Mark answers, trying not to conspicuously stare at the younger boy.

“But he doesn’t look..” Jaehyun says, clearly struggling to put together words to convey what he thinks Donghyuck is feeling.

“Hyung, he’ll be okay,” Mark cuts in, reassures albeit a little sharply and Jaehyun stares incredulously at him. Mark holds the intense gaze for another moment, head unwillingly replaying the part of Touch when he nearly fumbled with a lyric on today’s show but exhaustion interferes and he feels the urge to close his eyes too much to bear.

Jaehyun sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and puts a comforting hand on his thigh, as if he only realized now that they’re all just as burn out as Donghyuck seems to be.

The touch is an apology. Mark puts a hand atop the elder’s larger and paler ones and lets himself doze off for a little while but before he completely drifts off, he sneaks another glance at the barely moving stunner sitting on the seat a couple of feet away from him.

 _Watch him_ , Mark repeats in his head.

 _See him_ , he unconsciously corrects.

 

When he comes to, it’s to Doyoung’s defeated face, one pale hand resting on his bony shoulder as if he was about to shake him awake. The elder man reroutes his hand to Mark’s hair and smoothes it out once before he backs away.

Mark chances a glance at the now empty seat where Donghyuck was sitting. He gets up suddenly, feeling some kind of panic sink in.

He finds his feet rushing to the exit of the van, gaze flicking anywhere and everywhere, Doyoung and Jaehyun hot on his heels. However, it’s Taeyong who sighs and nods at him, pausing his conversation with Johnny.

Mark lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’ll stay with Dream tonight, hyung,” He blurts, like a statement not to be refuted, watching the worried curve of Taeyong’s lips twist into a smile.

He waves back at Doyoung and Jaehyun who was watching the brief exchange keenly and half sprints in the direction of the elevators. He sees a small group of three standing in front of the huge metal doors and ditches the plan, immediately going to the staircase, climbing up the stairs, each step firm and quick. His shoulder bag rhythmically hits the back of his thighs with every step he takes, head on a plane where only him, music and a particular boy exists.

Stepping into the dorm, Mark toes away his shoes and throws his bag on the couch. The TV is on, Tokyo Ghoul playing without volume. A cluster of laughter resounds from the kitchen and Mark knows exactly what to expect.

Donghyuck is standing behind the stove and the rest of Dream are huddled around him, Jisung pointedly staring at a knife, holding it the wrong way and attempting to cut it, only for Chenle to cackle again and ask him to change the position.

Donghyuck’s smiling, Jeno clinging onto him, back-hugging him tightly, his chin on Donghyuck’s shoulder. There’s a mixture of sounds drifting to his ears but Mark doesn’t register any of it, a pleasant warmth travelling through his veins at the sight.

Mark zones in enough to understand that they are thanking Donghyuck for cooking for them. It’s not what they mean, Mark knows, because they’re telling him they missed him and judging by Donghyuck’s grin, he knows it too.

This is how Donghyuck gets past his sadness. He doesn’t push people away, doesn’t yell at them, just finds his way to the people whom he likes taking care of and showers them with love and affection and watches the way their smiles get wider as they see him.

This is how Donghyuck heals and Mark knows because he sees him, better than anyone ever has, better than anyone ever can.

Renjun looks up from where he is meticulously slicing through the bell peppers and beckons him over. Mark smiles, silently walking over to the boys he is in charge of, the boys he’s grown up with and laughs along when Jisung and Chenle drag him for his lack of cooking skills. Donghyuck has a couple of choice words to add too. Mark pretends like he’s offended, even whines, all the while internally jumping about because Donghyuck is smiling, brightly, weightlessly, like everything is fine, like he’s genuinely happy and Mark knows he is because this is just how he is.

And Mark wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

***

 

It’s a little funny to Mark. How Donghyuck acts with Johnny that is.

They’ve always been close but there’s a special kind of laughter that escapes him when he scrolls down Twitter and sees their fans lose it over their interactions. It isn’t a recent development though, contrary to popular belief, because Johnny’s always been the father of their group, always positive, always so strong for all of them, the most dependable, immune to the world’s negativity, ever so pleasingly omniscient, always so aware of what to do, what not to do.

Mark has wondered multiple times, has laid awake at night thinking about how he handles all that pressure, how he knows what the right thing is without even doing a double take, always bowing to the silence that his mind responds with because there isn’t an answer he’s found, not yet. It’s somehow connected to the way he stays positive, Mark assumes, because Johnny doesn’t ever show his sadness, not in front of them, not where everyone can see.

In fact, there is no one that Mark knows in their group whom he confides in. He’s more used to the Johnny who forever stays by their side and urges them to do their best while simultaneously reminding them that “best” is overrated, that they are never truly showing their best always, that the gauge to calculate “best” depends on what you can do at the moment and not what you did yesterday or a month ago or what you will do two years later.

Johnny is wise like that too.

Mark sometimes thinks that Ten is the only person with whom Johnny lets loose with. He says that because he watches them, _sees_ them, because when he watches, _sees_ Donghyuck, he’s seeing the rest of them too and when you see someone for so long, you understand things, maybe not as much as he would like to, but still enough to keep doing it.

But he’s never seen Johnny break down, not even in front of Ten. Maybe he does so behind closed doors, body curled around the boy from the land of white elephants, never falling asleep there but the whites of his eyes are always clear and pristine and Mark questions his observations every time it happens because _if not here, where? Where else does he free himself?_

The answer, he thinks, is nowhere.

He’s not sure.

Mark’s certain that Donghyuck worries about the same thing. They’ve spent hours talking about their second eldest member with legs too long and arms too gangly, with hair the straightest and heart so spacious, always overflowing with love and confidence and happiness, all things that the affection-starved sides of them seek with a longing unexplainable in mere words.

Maybe, unlike Mark who sits on thoughts for too long, cross-sectioning every little thing and never really doing what he wants to, not always, maybe Donghyuck had figured that enough was enough because that’s what it looks like right now. He’s lying on his bed, the night colder because of the intermittent rain that has taken a liking to surprising them at the most inconvenient of times. It’s been about an hour since Johnny and Jaehyun returned home and he can still hear them chattering, Donghyuck’s tiny high pitched whines and the solid, calming baritone of Johnny’s making him want to give in to sleep. He assumes that Jaehyun has gone to sleep because he heard a door click softly minutes after he heard the peculiar noise which marked their front door’s opening.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep.

One moment he’s listening to Johnny humming something, probably in the kitchen and the next, his eyelids are falling shut.

When he wakes up, it’s a little over two hours later and his head is pounding hard. He opens the door with minimal noise which is quite a feat because he’s Mark Lee and he is incapable of controlling his limbs unless he’s dancing. His throat is parched and he’s tiptoeing to the kitchen when he sees Donghyuck dozing off on the couch, head pillowed against the backrest at an angle, the tips of his fingers hidden in the thick dark locks of Johnny who’s lying on his lap, sound asleep.

He forgets to breathe for a second because Johnny’s so calm all the time but this is one of the very few times he looks like he’s _actually_ at peace, relaxed, not for them, not for keeping them sane but for himself and Mark’s weak and he can’t help but think that Donghyuck is pure magic for being able to do this.

He sits at the dining table and drinks a glass of water before lifting his phone up, wondering whether to sleep or just try to write another verse because he’s here for this and he isn’t familiar with the concept of breaks.

He hears movement from the couch and gets up to look, only to see Johnny rubbing his eyes with his fists, still in his clothes from the radio schedule. The elder man fondly smiles down at Donghyuck and mumbles something that is not clear to him but knows it’s a thank you. Johnny bends down and presses a kiss to his forehead before picking Donghyuck up, the younger boy’s head cradled against his chest, still deep asleep.

Johnny sees him then.

“Go to sleep, Mark,” he says, soft but deliberately insistent and silently kicks open the door to the room Jaehyun and Donghyuck shares with a socked foot.

Mark’s response, a tiny nod, is delayed. He’s still frozen where he is when Johnny shuts the door behind him, arms empty.

Johnny smiles at him, eyes tired and face sleep-swollen.

“Goodnight,” he says, hand reaching out to ruffle Mark’s hair. Mark looks at him and prays to every deity out there that his hyung knows that he appreciates him, that Donghyuck does too, perhaps a lot more.

Johnny’s smile is answer enough.

 

***  


“Mark, can you get Taeil hyung and Sicheng for me?” Taeyong is chopping a huge pile of vegetables, glancing at him momentarily from the tomatoes he’s chopping up and Mark nods. Johnny is doing the same on the other side of the counter, albeit much less enthusiastic, seeing as he is working with onions. Cooking for nine people isn’t an easy feat and Mark is just inwardly glad that he’s a lost cause in the kitchen.

He silently wonders where Donghyuck had disappeared to as he trots to Taeil and Sicheng’s room. He knocks on the door only to have it open abruptly; Donghyuck sprinting out, cackling at the top of his lungs, Sicheng and Taeil chasing him, faces doodled with what looks like bright red lipstick. Mark muffles a snort with his hand when Taeil glares at him as he follows Donghyuck, Sicheng putting the younger boy in a deadly Renjun-esque headlock.

Donghyuck is laughing and wheezing, using his hands to tickle Taeil and Sicheng at the same time.

“Yah, you brat!” Taeil yells with no actual heat, breaking out into giggles himself as Donghyuck makes cooing sounds and kissing faces at him.

Sicheng walks like a man on a mission to Donghyuck and collapses on top of him as soon as Donghyuck plops down on the couch. He groans loudly, whining and yelling for help for show. Mark shakes his head at his antics and shrugs when Donghyuck calls him a traitor.

“Hyung, Taeyong hyung is looking for both of you,” he announces, strolling casually to the beanbag next to the couch and watches Sicheng irritate the life out of Donghyuck.

Taeil gets up, chest heaving and nods at Mark as he walks to the kitchen. Sicheng follows but stops halfway and wiggles his fingers in the air, Donghyuck startling and letting out a giggle at the sight.

Mark raises an eyebrow at him. A silent _What happened today?_

Donghyuck shrugs. Mark crosses his arms.

“Taeil hyung looked sad in the morning,” he answers as if that’s enough explanation for making a fool out of himself.

Mark shakes his head, watching Donghyuck flush from head to toe.

Every time Mark catches a glimpse of Taeil and Donghyuck in the week that follows, the younger boy is busy tiring himself out doing something silly and stupid but the unfading smile on Taeil’s face, Mark figures, must be enough for Donghyuck because when Taeil places a hand on his stomach and groans in pain from laughing too much, Donghyuck smiles secretly like he is proud of himself for making their moon happy even if for a while.

 

***

 

They’re close, super close. Mark sometimes wishes that it wasn’t so conspicuous to him but it is and sometimes, rarely, he feels the green monster clutch his throat tight when he sees them. But the love he has for Donghyuck far outweighs the little pinpricks of jealousy and whenever he finds himself wallowing in the misery and guilt that the feeling brings about in him, he tells himself that he’s only a nineteen-year-old boy from an entirely different continent, that his emotions are valid, that it’s okay to feel that way, that his absolutely fully capable lyric doesn’t have to play out so in real life too.

Their bond is way beyond something Mark or anyone in NCT, despite being well-spoken and sensible, can ever express in words, solely because it’s just that.

Unexplainable.

Jaemin and Donghyuck are like two peas in a pod. The same side of a coin, two stars shining the brightest when together, two sets of rainbows meeting each other in the middle, vivid and luminescent and despite everything Mark feels for Donghyuck and vice versa, there’s nothing that Mark can arrange and list out off the top of his head which can battle their unique nexus.

The bond they share, some cosmic connection or telepathy or some equally magical shit, is something Mark can never take away from them, even if he feels most jealous of Jaemin because he doesn’t share that with Donghyuck, not like the younger boy does.

Jaemin is panting loudly, hands resting on his knees, bent over, sweaty fringe dripping water to the shiny floor. Mark’s immediate instinct at the sight is to look at Donghyuck who is scowling intensely at the mirror, as if he has a personal vendetta against the reflection of Jaemin in the mirror while simultaneously being aware to not speak out loud and call Jaemin out for pushing himself because it is always performance first and health later inside the dance studio where they’re NCT, not individuals who feel pain, they’re members of a limitless group who have just begun their journey and cannot afford to stop.

Mark is grateful but he’s a little bit bitter too because he knows that not everyone has it the same as them, not everyone is constantly scared of disappointing the company who has never debuted a flop group, not everyone is constantly being pressured by the heightened expectations of everyone around them, faceless and nameless wanderers, preys to random twitter links and higher-ups who sign their paychecks.

It might be a little selfish to think that way because what about the ones who never made it here but he’s only a decade and a few years old and he’s simple, blasé, ordinary at times too, not the golden boy people think he is, not when his feet trembles in fear for the boy with the herniated disc upon whose back he is expected to stand with the pride of a lion, because here, with his eyes set on the only sun he’ll ever love the warmth of, he is human, not the prodigy he’s made out to be.

They are about to do the eighth run of Black on Black and it’s exhausting to do it once, much less eight times and for a boy who’s spent more time in the hospital and lying down in the bed, dreaming about a comeback that delayed the more his bones refused to heal, for that boy, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

Mark is but a witness and no matter the constant strings of words his mouth blurts out in comfort, in random spurts and continuous rants without a set direction, nothing will quite work on Jaemin, their boy with the bright toothy grin who has way too much love and gratitude for everyone around him, not like just a single glance from Donghyuck will.

And that is the exact reason why Jaemin perks up, just a little, at the way Donghyuck mouths _Just once more_ at his reflection and Mark smiles because he might be the leader of Dream but he knows exactly who they all look up to for strength and support and he isn’t offended, not the slightest.

When they leave the practice room that day, Donghyuck lugs a sleepy and exhausted Jaemin to their dorms, never once taking his hands off of Jaemin’s waist and he looks at Mark as they make their way downstairs, a silent _I’m not coming home tonight_ conveyed from the depth of his dark eyes.

Mark nods and informs Taeyong of the same.

It’s around one at night when he jolts awake from a particularly nasty dream, one that involves Chenle and heights and he just has to see the Chinese boy to make sure he’s fine, glad that Chenle, despite his family moving to Korea, stays over at the dorms some nights which makes it all the more easy for him to see the boy.

The dorm is silent, except for the comforting mix of the refrigerator’s humming and the soft sleep music flowing from Jeno’s room. Mark pushes the door to Chenle’s room and said boy is sleeping with a content expression, eyelids fluttering from the wisps of a dream, one arm hanging off the bed and nearly touching the ground. Mark contemplates fixing what looks like a painfully uncomfortable position but he doesn’t because he’s not sure he’s ready to get choked to death by Renjun due to Chenle’s dolphin screeches in the middle of the night.

It’s perhaps because he already knows what he’ll see that he pushes open the door to Jaemin’s room, finding a smile appearing on his face, heart warm and full. Donghyuck is spooning Jaemin, face squished into Jaemin’s neck just like how Mark does when they cuddle but this is less intimate, yet somehow more at the same time because Jaemin’s hands are curled into two fists and it’s too innocent for his heart to bear.

His eyes fall on the pain reliever ointment and spray on the nearby desk, the menthol in the air making complete sense, now more than ever.

When he walks out, tiptoes out really, Jeno is sitting on the couch, one eye open, and the other closed.

“I want Black on Black promotions to end,” he says, honest.

Mark only nods, hands clutching the strap of his bag.

“I hate it when you step on him,” Mark blanches but Jeno carries on, “But I get it and it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark says and it isn’t even his fault, not really.

“I’m glad we have him,” Jeno says, a little later, a small smile tugging his lips up as they eat ice cream together.

Mark only needs to take one look at Jeno to know that he’s talking about Donghyuck.

 

***

 

Mark nearly throws his phone on the floor, reining in the unreasonable anger bubbling within him with every ounce of his self-control. They’re all lounging in the 127 dorm, just having a get-together of sorts before they jump in head first into schedules full swing.

Donghyuck is seated next to Yukhei on the floor, a respectable distance from Jungwoo and Kun, the younger boy comparing his hand size with Yukhei’s, Taeil and Yuta looking on fondly from the other side of the couch at the pair.

It’s frustrating because Mark knows he isn’t supposed to feel this way, especially when he knows exactly how Donghyuck is with the members. Yukhei had taken very little time to crawl his way into the hearts of their fans with his broken Korean-English hybrid and huge gestures. It’s not that Mark’s jealous of the fact that Yukhei’s getting attention, it’s just that he’s not used to seeing Donghyuck act standoffish with someone one day and showering them with all of his affection the next.

Yukhei seems to be at a loss too but there’s something else lining the edges of his face and it takes a few more moments of observation but Mark shakes his head when he finally realizes what their one-sided conversation is about.

Yukhei is speaking in Cantonese, Donghyuck humming along in response, tugging at his hands and smoothing down his hair with nimble fingers. At one point, Mark swears that Yukhei tears up, big eyes shining with more than just his spirit. Mark drags his gaze away and Doyoung plops down next to him, one hand occupied with a glass of water.

“Jealous?” Doyoung asks without any preamble.

Mark contemplates lying but decides otherwise.

“A little.”

Doyoung huffs out a soft bout of laughter.

“Yukhei’s scared of messing up so Donghyuck asked him to talk in whichever language he prefers,” Doyoung explains, out of the blue, after a long pause.

“I think Yukhei’s gonna cry,” Mark says in response, watching Yukhei hide his face in his palms, Donghyuck pulling at his large hands to see his face.

“He probably will,” Doyoung agrees, screeching and getting up when Jeno sneaks up on him and tickles him from behind.

It’s a little later and Donghyuck is squeezing the life out of Yukhei when Mark finds a smile spreading on his face because Yukhei’s smiling the brightest he has in days and he’s grateful and proud; grateful because Donghyuck’s extending a hand of comfort to Yukhei too, proud because this personified ray of sunshine is his, always will be his.

 

***

 

They are all huddled together, all of 127 that is, and Mark is too tired from their schedule during the day and the MC gig that he can barely differentiate between black and white. But even then, he had dragged himself to the living room when Johnny knocked on his door for the movie night. NCT had all taken to the habits of spending most of their time inside their rooms, wanting alone time more than time together, a deep understanding inside all their hearts regarding the space they needed for themselves, well, as much space as was possible with 9 members pushed together to live in one dorm.

It’s not like they completely ignore each other or hate spending time together or anything. It’s just that everyone preferred to spend the majority of their time just doing mundane things without the weight of expectations and judgment beating them down to the ground.

It was Taeyong who first suggested the once a week phenomenon just as a means to have time where they could chill and just sit back to watch a movie or share their thoughts as a team, free from all the tension and pressure that the limelight forced upon them.

Mark gets why Taeyong found it necessary to establish this unsaid rule and that’s why it’s half past nine on a Thursday and he’s seated on the floor, leaning back against the couch, Yuta’s lithe fingers lazily pressing on his sore muscles. Donghyuck is clinging to Johnny, teeth pressing down on the elder’s sweater-clad arm like a teething puppy and it should make him jealous but it doesn’t because Mark is sure of exactly where he’ll return to.

“Where’s Doyoung hyung?” Sicheng asks, eyes running over their faces, as if doing a once over to confirm said man’s absence.

“He said he has a headache,” Johnny says and Mark is certain that the elder man knows exactly how unconvincing that reason is.

Taeyong goes to get up but decides otherwise halfway through, settling back with a sigh against Jaehyun who puts an arm around him to accommodate him.

Donghyuck rises to his feet and excuses himself. Yuta presses on a particularly sore muscle and Mark closes his eyes, biting his lip to keep from groaning out loud.

A few moments have drifted past, the movie playing at a low volume, an old romcom about a wedding planner and everyone except Taeil, who chose the movie, and Jaehyun are mumbling to each other. Mark answers Yuta’s worried questions about his health slowly, getting a little anxious that Donghyuck hasn’t returned yet.

It’s another couple of minutes later and Donghyuck joins them but he’s not alone, a moody Doyoung trailing behind him, the elder’s wrist firmly held in Donghyuck’s tan fingers. Mark sees Johnny move from the single couch he was sharing with Donghyuck and the maknae smiles gratefully at the elder man.

Mark watches with bated breath as Donghyuck makes grabby hands at Doyoung, the elder glaring at him with a frown before he gives in and settles next to him.

Mark finds himself nodding off again, seemingly stuck in a perpetual state of exhaustion and when he opens his eyes next, Doyoung is clinging tightly to Donghyuck, nuzzling into his chest. Everyone else is lost in their own worlds, Sicheng dozing off on Taeyong’s lap. The flashing lights from the movie as the scene shifts fall on Doyoung’s face and Mark realizes belatedly that his hyung is crying, glossy tear tracks shining on his pale cheeks.

Donghyuck is mumbling something into the elder’s hair and it should be a strange sight, watching the youngest take care of one of the hyungs like this but it doesn’t faze Mark because this is how Donghyuck is. He would give them, all of them, all the comfort and love in the world, no questions asked. He would hold them as long as they needed to be held and he would worry about them in subtle or extravagant ways, depending on which he finds fit because that’s how Donghyuck is and Mark knows this because he _sees_ him, all that he’s allowed to, that is.

Doyoung and Donghyuck are very similar, Mark thinks. Sure they swing in different ways, acts like they’re miles apart in character but it isn’t true, not from what Mark has seen and noticed all through the years. They’re both good at nagging, the only difference is that Donghyuck does it more covertly than Doyoung who smacks you in the face with it in a mom-like manner. Mark himself is guilty of enjoying when they go off on him for the silliest things and it might not be as clear to outsiders but all of NCT appreciates them for who they are, all their little quirks included.

It kind of makes sense then, to see that someone like Doyoung would find comfort in the hands of a younger version of himself. It makes his heart sing with fondness because he loves them both, in different ways, as does the others and there’s nothing that can quite replace the feeling you get when the people you love are there for each other.

Donghyuck looks up at him then, messy haired and ethereal, thin arms wrapped around Doyoung like a barrier against the world.

Mark smiles softly because he looks beautiful like that, like he always thinks he does.

Donghyuck winks and keeps mumbling things Mark can’t hear from even just a few feet away.

Mark sputters, Yuta smacking him on the head and watches Donghyuck smile back, the sunshine and rainbows inside his head bowing down to the brightness that the one true sun of his life emits.

 

***

 

Jisung is dancing with utmost concentration, his eyebrows knitted in a frown as he repeats the routine that the instructor had taught him in preparation for the reality show. He’s doing really well, Mark thinks, his body moving in tune with the beat, each pop, each lock evidently sharp and Mark sees it, sees why the youngest is said to be the top three dancers in NCT. They’re all really good but there’s just something special about the way Jisung moves, too tall and shifty in his skin, barely sixteen and forced to mature way sooner than the rest of them, to grow into his limbs way before it is time but still so breathtakingly stunning.

Mark’s not much older than him but it’s different and no matter the trials and tribulations that come with having such a savage maknae, Mark would choose Jisung a thousand times again. The youngest boy works hard, gives each performance his all, but he too has days when he moves like a slug in practice sessions even though they are as rare as nights when Mark sleeps earlier than midnight.

It takes him another minute of careful staring to realize that Jisung is heaving for breath, still mechanically going through the choreography like he doesn’t realize that he has reached his limit. Mark scrambles around for a solution. Calling him out would get nothing done and the more he watches the intensifying frown on the maknae’s red face, audible breaths escaping him, the more the tightness in his lungs catches hold of him.

Mark casts a panicking glance to Chenle who is curled up next to Jeno on the floor, branded caps covering both their faces, lost in dreamland, having worn themselves out after the Black on Black practice ended. The door to the practice room swings open then, Jaemin piggybacking Renjun in, Donghyuck following with an armful of drinks from the vending machine on their floor.

Jisung is unaware of their return, lost in the brutal beats of the music playing in the background, drops of sweat dripping to the floor. Donghyuck deposits the cans of juice on the floor and groans loudly, cursing Jaemin and Renjun under his breath. Mark catches the exact moment that the other’s expression shifts from one of annoyance to concern.

Donghyuck’s hands find a juice can and he gets up, walking to the music player to stop the music, pulling the pen drive out for good measure. Mark finds himself wondering why he didn’t do the same, having frozen instead of reacting.

Jisung’s legs tremble when he stops and yells, “Hyung!”

Donghyuck puts on a fake smirk and shakes the can in his hands, beckoning the younger over but Jisung rejects the offer, walking towards Donghyuck to play the music again.

Donghyuck glares at the younger until he gives up, sighing and staring at the polished floor, shoulders slumping forward as he extends his hand for the can.

Donghyuck smiles and puts an arm around Jisung’s shoulder, forcing him to lower himself down to his height, praising him for being a good maknae while simultaneously supporting the younger on his way to the mirror, body trembling with exertion.

Mark moves a bit to the side as Donghyuck leads Jisung to sit next to him. His nails have left crescent marks on the soft flesh of his palms but Donghyuck looks at him hopefully for some reason.

It takes a moment for realization to dawn.

Mark reaches for Jisung’s knee and pats him gently. The youngest relaxes a bit, slumping a little against him and Mark puts his arm around him. Donghyuck ruffles Jisung’s hair and is up in a flash, a smirk on his face as he tackles Renjun to the floor, waking Jeno and Chenle in the process.

When Jisung snorts at the stupid antics of the other, Mark realizes yet another thing about Donghyuck.

 

***

 

It’s very early, night giving up its reigns to dawn, the sky outside the window in the living room an almost deathly pale blue. Mark takes another sip from the coke can and crushes it in his hands, the skin of his palm protesting against the movement. It’s one of those nights where he feels useless sitting in front of his songbook, nothing except weird doodles that look nothing like anything filling up the overpriced pages.

Donghyuck had texted him earlier in the evening that he was with Taeyong at the studio and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Mark contemplated asking him to come back home, offering to take over and talk to Taeyong hyung on his own because he’s older and somehow expected to be wiser. But he hadn’t because their leader deserves comfort and no matter how much Mark tries, as much as he succeeds in writing lyrics on his own, he will never quite know the right words, not like Donghyuck does.

It’s past 4 when Donghyuck stumbles in with Taeyong, their faces swollen and eyes glassy, the unfortunate strain of a past haunting both their actions, a moment in time that they’ll carry with them forever. Taeyong startles at seeing Mark on the couch, voice cracking when he tells him to go sleep but Mark simply waves an offhanded promise into the air, taking advantage of the leader’s exhausted state.

Donghyuck throws him a pointed look, unamused by Mark staying up so late and says something to Taeyong, leading him to his room, the elder following without objections. At the threshold, Donghyuck hugs Taeyong from the back, like he needs the comfort when in reality Mark knows that it’s the other way around.

Taeyong doesn’t give in to anyone, not really, always staying strong for all of them, never once acting like it’s hard, even when he looks a snap away from breaking completely. Johnny and Doyoung are the only ones who can pull him away from that headspace then, gentle but insistent hands on his waist or the small of his back or around his wrist but sometimes, sometimes he finds release with Donghyuck too, sometimes he looks for Donghyuck and coddles the life out of him and Donghyuck lets him, lets him fold his clothes or dry his hair or help with his dancing or listens with the utmost concentration when he sits him down and gives him advice. Donghyuck stays and hears him out, hums along without protest, doesn’t sass back, doesn’t laugh at him, doesn’t try to stop him, doesn’t show the slightest bit of hesitation because he knows that Taeyong finds comfort like he does too, in knowing he’s taking care of everyone, in knowing he’s doing his job well, in knowing he’s someone they can all look up to.

Mark closes the songbook, eyelids feeling way too heavy for him to keep working. He places it on the coffee table and feels his lips curving slowly when a familiar warmth settles next to him.

“Is he okay?” Mark looks at Donghyuck as he says it.

Donghyuck shakes his head slowly and says, “Johnny hyung will know what to do.”

“You okay?” Mark asks next, words tumbling out freely because Donghyuck’s done his best and now it’s up to Johnny to do the rest.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond vocally, simply turning and hugging Mark, nodding against his neck.

“Good,” Mark mumbles against his faded brown hair and Donghyuck tightens his arms around him. The younger’s body heat seeps through the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt and Mark sighs in content, realizing that he’d been cold all night long.

 

***

 

Chenle doesn’t really get sad often. Maybe it’s because he’s still so pure at heart, so young that when he does get sad, he reaches out to them without hesitance.

He also doesn’t have a certain member that he goes to when he feels his mood tumult. He’s not picky like that, unlike what Mark expects from someone who hails from a rich and privileged family.

That’s another thing Mark is very much fond of when he looks at his members. They are all from different financial backgrounds but it doesn’t dictate how they act with each other. When they’re together, the annual incomes of their families don’t matter, only their bond does and Mark is grateful, so damn grateful.

Chenle is acting a little weird today. He’s definitely not at a hundred percent, mood-wise or health wise. Mark can tell it is so from the way his moves are sluggish, his feet dragging as he moves, spins imperfect, pops offbeat. Mark calls for a halt, saying this is enough for today, Jeno raising an eyebrow in the mirror questioning his sudden declaration and Mark flicks his eyes towards Chenle secretly.

Jeno nods.

Donghyuck hasn’t paid attention to the second youngest yet, thoughts still stuck somewhere in a loop of their choreography for the new comeback.

Jisung tries to screech into Chenle’s ears when the other boy just gives him a tired smile instead of the usual fist bumping and jumping together thing they do. Donghyuck notices it then and frowns.

Mark knows how much the younger adores Chenle and Jisung despite being one of the closest to their ages. He likes knowing that the youngest boys are fine, trying to keep his “fun hyung” persona intact without straying away from the second in command job that he had assumed unofficially.

In fact, Mark is guilty of falling asleep one too many times as Donghyuck gushed on about how cute the maknaes were, eating the food he made, praising him with every bite. It’s the little things that matter to his boyfriend and there’s not a day that goes by without Chenle or Jisung doing something to make his boyfriend’s heart flip, even if their fans assume that the maknaes are purely terrifying minions.

Mark can’t say they’re too far off from the truth but Donghyuck will smack him if he ever admits to it, so he keeps quiet.

Chenle goes straight to his room when they get back to the dorms, waving off their concerns with a small smile, under eyes bluish pink.

“I just wanna sleep, hyung,” he says, looking like he’s ready to collapse from exhaustion. He had had a fever the week before and he had barely gotten any proper sleep, refusing to go home even if he was sick.

Donghyuck, Renjun and Jaemin give him tight hugs and tuck him in together, Mark ruffling his hair when he looks up at him with a whine of _hyung_. Donghyuck pushes the younger’s fringe back and winces a little at what Mark knows is the heightened temperature of the other boy’s forehead.

“He has a fever,” Renjun says when they close the door behind them.

 _Well, no shit Sherlock,_ Mark thinks just as Donghyuck says it, earning a glare from the smaller boy.

Donghyuck gets Ten and pulls him to the kitchen and Mark hovers at the kitchen doorway watching the pair cook juk for the sick boy.

When they spoon feed it to Chenle and give him a pill to make the temperature go down, Donghyuck’s eyebrows are knitted in a seemingly permanent frown.

Mark hesitates to go back to the 127 dorms, as does Donghyuck, but the little detail of informing their hyungs skips their mind. Johnny comes looking for them before he leaves for the radio schedule. Mark apologizes and informs him that they’re staying with Dream tonight.

When Chenle trots to their room just to thank them for taking care of him, Mark and Donghyuck envelop the younger in a gentle hug, still being careful about his state.

“Hyung, the juk was so good,” Chenle mumbles before he walks away.

“My child,” Donghyuck breathes out, one palm clutching his chest.

Mark snorts loudly.

 

***

 

It was their first time performing Boss and everyone had been nervous, still a little in the dark about how the public will react to their new track. It was a huge burden, to be part of a lineup that was designed to ease the audience into the rest of their album, a beginning of another era with a mix of everything they’ve already done so far while simultaneously being a collaboration with the new features.

Mark had noticed Jungwoo. Of course, he had.

The slightly elder man was jittery, shaking almost, eyes watery during their first take until Doyoung coaxed him backstage, Mark following them like he always does. Doyoung had tried his best to talk Jungwoo out of it but it hadn’t quite worked, and Mark himself had, pretending to show him the moves again, tried to keep an eye on him, the elder’s gaze unfocused, lips down-turned but not quite a frown yet.

It hadn’t worked. Not really.

But Jungwoo had pushed through the shoot, trying to put his best efforts in because he probably knew that he had no choice, the realization sinking in that this was his dream and that he was privileged to get a shot at this, something that has been denied to so many others.

Mark keeps the incident in mind but doesn’t do anything else except for passing Jungwoo water bottles or nodding at him reassuringly because he’s not used to this, not used to reassuring and calming people down with words. Even in Dream where he is the leader, Donghyuck is the one who does all the things Mark can’t because despite what other people think, there are indeed things he can’t do.

It comes to a head in the evening because the management uploads an N video aptly titled _“When Jungwoo cried”._ Taeyong seethes in anger, hearing their phones go off in quick succession, the notification interrupting all of NCT relaxing in the 127 dorms, pulling the celebration of the debut of two from their Lucky Three to a screeching halt.

Kun follows Jungwoo, Yukhei stumbling a little as he does the same but Jungwoo doesn’t open the door to Jaehyun’s room, having locked it tightly behind him.

Taeyong tries. Yuta tries. Chenle tries. Johnny tries. Jisung tries. Taeil tries. Renjun tries.

Donghyuck doesn’t.

When Doyoung tries to talk to Jungwoo, the door clicks open but instead of going to the elder, the man makes a beeline to Kun, bending his 180 something body to fit into Kun’s arms, the shorter man’s arms wrapping around him tightly. Yukhei cries too, joining their group hug after a second of staring a little like a lost idiot.

Mark smiles at the sight because this is what happens when you put three boys who have a language barrier, a shared dream and hope that seemed like it died far away but hasn’t yet, in one single dorm.

What he doesn’t expect that night, however, is to wake up to see Donghyuck’s sleepy dark eyes staring down at him, a request disguised as a demand at the tip of the younger’s tongue.

Mark concedes to his request after he hears him out.

It’s three in the morning when they ring the doorbell to the trio’s dorm. Strangely enough, Yukhei is wide awake and opens the door in a matter of seconds but having seen the look Donghyuck throws at the taller boy, Mark knows that there was correspondence between them.

Mark shakes his head because he can see the amount of havoc they will wreak upon their lives with their antics and as much as he wants to say he’s prepared, he isn’t.

Jungwoo is sleeping on the couch, tear tracks starting to dry on his cheeks, long eyelashes fluttering against his delicate cheekbones and suddenly, Mark can see what Yukhei does.

Donghyuck pats the elder on his cheek and smiles softly, the kind of smile he reserves for occasions like these.

Jungwoo blinks his eyes open.

“Hyung, we brought your favourite ice cream and cake,” Donghyuck says.

Jungwoo backs himself against the couch for a second at Donghyuck’s proximity but tears up immediately as he flicks his gaze between the three of them.

When Donghyuck spends the night talking to Jungwoo, chattering away about vocal bullshit that Mark and Yukhei can’t even bring themselves to process, he feels content, perhaps a little fuzziness settling in the depth of his stomach because Donghyuck never _ever_ ceases to amaze him and he knows, deep inside, that it’ll always be so.

 

***

 

Ten, Mark thinks, has always been a little rough around the edges.

Their fans are used to seeing the polished, picture-perfect smile of the other, a seemingly permanent fixture on the exquisite, almost artistic features of the elder man, moving like water on the glossy stage, every move as precise as it is graceful.

It’s confusing, people say, figuring out Ten that is.

But it isn’t. Not really.

Not if you’ve heard him yelling at Chenle through the thin walls of the dorm Dream stays at, or seen him flopping on top of Johnny without a single care in the world after the group dance practice, or caught him binging on ice cream in the middle of the night, not the least bit worried about his diet.

He’s driven. He breathes like he’s born to chase his dream, being so immensely passionate that even a bum knee can’t hold him down, not like Fate has planned before she erases the lines pertaining to it because Ten’s insistent like that and a single line in his fate will never be enough to hold a dreamer’s spirit down. That isn’t how it works.

Ten’s a go-getter, Mark thinks, has always been.

Maybe that’s why when Donghyuck stares at Ten with not just fondness and adoration but also a colossal strain of something that Mark can only describe as worship, he can understand why it is so. It’s different because Donghyuck and Ten are loud in ways they’ll never draw similarities to, both their wits brash in a way that Mark knows that if one were to be pitted against the other, they’d have to stay up a million nights because they’d never admit defeat like that, not to each other and never to others. It doesn’t stem from a competitive spirit, it stems from knowing, a firm and true realization that what the other person demands is not defeat, but appreciation and acceptance for their unapologetic personality.

Maybe that’s why Mark knows that if Johnny isn’t here to lift his mood up, Donghyuck should be the second choice and he’s wondering how to draw his boyfriend’s attention to the elder man, eyes closed and hands joined together as if in a prayer. It doesn’t surprise him, however, to see that Donghyuck’s already there, leaning on the rails of their balcony, the rest of Dream watching a movie with the volume cranked up high.

They are muttering things amongst themselves, Ten’s face sharper, Donghyuck’s softer, both their visages shrouded in the dim yellow glow of the balcony light. Mark doesn’t want to come off as a creep so he sits down next to Jisung, the maknae clutching his biceps tight and leaning on him when he does. He eyes the pair on the balcony every now and then.

Mark catches movement in the corner of his eye a few moments later, having lost track of time, Donghyuck shuffling closer to Ten, putting his arm around the elder’s shoulders. Mark can’t help but smile into the soft fabric of the throw pillow he’s hugging to his chest.

Ten throws his head back and laughs sometime later, and Mark doesn’t have to look to the side to see the self-satisfied smile on Donghyuck’s face.

When they start tickling themselves to see who can make the other turn into more of a giggling mess, Chenle gets up, volunteering himself to join the pair and soon, all of Dream, including Mark, is dogpiling on top of Ten until Jeno taps out and physically drags them all off of the elder man out of kindness.

Ten refuses to roll off of Donghyuck, squishing his cheeks and pinching him randomly, all the while laughing at how the younger groans and whines pitifully, his completely exaggerated sound effects making Jaemin throw a pillow at him.

 

***

 

The recent room arrangement that they have going on is perhaps one of the best things that has happened at the NCT dorms in a while, Mark thinks. He doesn’t really like the fact that Donghyuck’s away now but it’s not like he’s miles away, in another country without access to a phone or internet. He’s only just a room away and Jaehyun has given them all express permission to just stroll in whenever, not that Mark takes advantage of the opportunity, not always.

His favourite thing to do, sometimes, when he’s exhausted and burnt out, is to lie especially close to the wall and listen in to the banter that seeps through from the other room. It’s incredibly creepy of him to do but Doyoung only gives him a knowing look and hides his head underneath a blanket and when one day the elder man cannot keep in his curiosity, Mark only responds with a reminder of how Jaehyun used to do the same when Donghyuck and he had jam sessions at night.

With Jaehyun, keeping Donghyuck in sight, Mark doesn’t think that there’s really one incident he can point out because a lot of it is minor in ways that even Mark cannot pinpoint but sometimes so huge that he can’t help but wonder how lucky they are to have a literal sun among them.

But that’s not to say that picking one instance for the others is easy, it isn’t but Jaehyun, even if he looks like an open book, is a far cry from being one and Donghyuck is subtle with him sometimes, so subtle to the point that Mark has to nitpick to find things out on occasion.

Sometimes he’s excitedly ranting about Jaehyun’s SM Station track in their Vlive regardless of what their manager has scripted for them in a vague manner and other times he’s glancing at Jaehyun with worry colouring his face because Jaehyun is a tough fish to catch, a slippery one and no one’s really sketched him out on a paper in the perfect way.

Donghyuck, however, knows, he just _knows._

Even though the roommates love to sleep a little too much, Mark often catches them muffling their laughter in the middle of the night, completely contrasting voices blending together in the strangest of rants.

Today, in particular, Jaehyun is supposed to be leaving for the radio schedule in an hour or so but Donghyuck is fast asleep, cuddled against the other’s chest, nuzzling in further like Mark has seen cats do in the videos Ten has shown him.

He’s been sent by Johnny to wake Jaehyun up but he hovers at the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob because they look so tranquil like this, without the searing heat of spotlights and the baked makeup on their skin, just a mass of limbs tangled together on Jaehyun’s bed.

“Hyung..” Mark calls out anyway, because he can’t afford to let them stay this way for long.

Not when the world is waiting.

Jaehyun wakes up after a couple of calls of his name. Donghyuck stirs when the elder gets up but doesn’t wake up otherwise. Mark can see that something is wrong by the look on Jaehyun’s face but he doesn’t push him, leaving with a small nod of acknowledgement.

It’s an hour after Jaehyun and Johnny leave that Donghyuck crawls into his bed, cold nose nuzzling into the warm skin of his neck. This is what Donghyuck does when he wants to know something, Mark can tell. He shivers when Donghyuck slips his cold hands under his hoodie, smiling into his neck.

Mark stops him with his hand and Donghyuck whines.

He laughs softly in response.

“What now?” Mark asks.

“When you came looking for Jaehyun hyung… was he sleeping?” Donghyuck’s voice is gentle, barely a breath, soft lips moving against his adam’s apple.

“Yeah, he was. Why do you ask?” Mark is curious.

Donghyuck sighs.

“He’s been having trouble sleeping again. I manhandled him to the bed in the evening because he said his head was spinning.”

It’s worrying but they’ve all been there enough times for Mark to just nod and hum.

“I’ll go back to my room a little later when Jaehyun hyung comes back,” Donghyuck warns when Mark puts his arms around him and squeezes him, his body soft and pliant, melding perfectly against Mark’s.

“But I won’t be gone for long, okay?”

Mark nods again, knowing what his boyfriend plans to do next.

So when he wakes up to a warm bed, hands clutching his blanket and their personified sunshine, he wants to know if his assumptions were right.

He treads to Jaehyun’s room, and just like he expects, Jaehyun is curled around Doyoung, his forehead pressing just below the elder’s nape, arms wrapped tight around him. It feels so painfully intimate and Mark regrets checking on them, just a little.

He returns to see Donghyuck groping the bed, eyes still closed.

“Creep,” he mutters when Mark lies down next to him.

Mark laughs.

“I’m not the only one,” he retorts.

There’s a moment of silence.

“True,” Donghyuck concurs.

He’s still a little in awe when Donghyuck falls right back asleep because how does a person know exactly what to do to help someone else out? How does Donghyuck know all that?

How long is he gonna be constantly surprised at Donghyuck’s ability to sense what they feel, what they need?

“Stop thinking,” he mumbles.

Mark grins.

It sounds like a resounding _Never!_

 

***

 

Donghyuck already has his makeup on, hair styled to the high heavens, the highlighter on his cheeks popping, a beautiful twinge of shine to his already glowing skin. He’s jumping about in the dressing room, accompanied by an equally hyped Chenle, trying to psych their stylists and makeup noonas out but at this point, they’re all pretty much immune to his pranks.

Only pretty much.

Being completely immune to Lee Donghyuck’s charms is a sin and Mark has no shame admitting that, which also means that he’s whipped, painfully so.

Mark sees Donghyuck pause for a second, watching their stylist tighten Yuta’s outfit with lithe and precise fingers. Then his gaze immediately drags itself to Kun who’s sitting on the couch in the dressing room, hands fidgeting as he presumably tries not to run a hand through his styled hair.

Mark can see the cogs in Donghyuck’s brain whirr noisily. The makeup noona who is smudging lipstick on his lips turns his chin to the side but he makes sure to keep his gaze on his boyfriend. His boyfriend who looked like he had a plan in the making.

Donghyuck plops down on the couch next to Kun, scooting closer with intent and puts an arm around the Chinese man who does a double take seeing the younger boy.

Mark facepalms internally, letting out a defeated sigh and huffs out a laugh when the makeup noona immediately turns to Donghyuck and shakes her head in a knowing manner.

Mark watches Donghyuck as he rambles on and on about one thing or the other, Kun’s expressive face doing a multitude of expressions that Mark has never seen him do, having seen him stick to a fond smile or a plain face with the lingering traces of a curve of his lips.

But with Donghyuck, it’s hard to be the person you want to be because he’s invasive, highly so, because he likes digging into your heart within seconds of him knowing you, likes taking apart the embargo that you’ve placed on your real personality, likes showing you by doing so that you’re perfect, however you are, whoever you are. Perhaps it stems from struggling with these things even now but Donghyuck never spreads negativity because he has been on the receiving end, as much as it hurts Mark to think about it, has seen how cruel words get when you get a step wrong or when your pants cling to your thighs a little more than the other trainees and Donghyuck, more than anyone, or as much as anyone, knows just what you’re thinking even if he plays dumb at times to entertain you.

Kun wheezes, clutching his stomach and it’s then that Donghyuck genuinely smiles, beckoning over Yuta with a whine of his name and open arms. The Japanese man settles down on the other side, grinning wide, eyes sparkling from the positive nerves that hit him before performances.

Donghyuck, like Mark predicts inside his head, doesn’t stay with them for long after that, looking up at Mark, mouthing “Call me” in a subtle manner.

So Mark does and Donghyuck excuses himself to tread to him, leaning down to give him a hug just as the makeup noona pulls Jisung down on an adjacent chair, the maknae’s lipstick requiring a little touch-up.

After Mark finishes discussing the pyramid with Jaehyun, he turns to see Kun and Yuta posing for a selca, Kun’s arms around Yuta’s shoulders and vice versa.

When his gaze searches for Donghyuck, the younger wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and throws him a thumbs up, Yukhei and Sicheng exchanging confused glances next to the younger boy.

Mark sighs, Jaehyun laughing at him as he does so.

 

***

 

A sombre atmosphere has set in their dressing room, everyone still in their stage costumes. Mark feels the front of his knee throb from the almost fall he had today at the concert. He sees Chenle stare at his shoes with a vengeful look, Jaehyun rubbing his hands on his thigh and squeezing once before he lets go.

Taeyong is sitting with his head hung low as they wait for the managers to come back and inform them when to join the other groups on the encore stage. Mark attempts smiling at the floor in practice for what he’ll inevitably have to do sooner or later. His facial muscles stretch painfully and Renjun throws him a weird look, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Johnny and Doyoung return with Jisung then, the youngest leaning his weight on the long-haired man, Jaemin slowly walking behind them, ready to support Jisung in case he takes another tumble to the floor.

They’re all really frustrated. It was just sheer luck that no one really succumbed to major injuries. Mark doesn’t blame the organizers or the managers because he is aware that a lot of money went into the concert, enough for it to make a huge dent in the sponsors’ bank account if they cancelled it, and so he just blames the weather because how dare the clouds rain on them when they’re dancing to arguably one of the hardest choreographies K-pop has ever seen? He also can’t help but worry if other groups are fine too, remembering some members limp past their dressing room.

“Where’s Jeno and Donghyuck?” Ten asks, cat-like gaze roving over the occupants of the room.

“Jeno wanted to go to the washroom. Hyuck went with him. He’s still having trouble walking,” Johnny says, hands rubbing circles on Jisung’s backside, the younger leaning against him.

A couple of minutes pass and when there are no signs of the missing pair, Mark gets up, Taeyong’s gaze flicking towards him immediately.

“I’ll go check on them. They’ve taken long enough,” Mark says, voice tight from being silent for the past hour or so, remainders of a stray tune drifting inside the room from the stage.

Taeyong nods and Mark slips outside the room, turning to the right when he reaches the end of the hallway. He hovers outside the door that leads to the cluster of toilets but doesn’t open it all the way, choosing to push it just enough to see if Jeno and Donghyuck are there.

Lo and behold, Jeno is leaning against the counter, Donghyuck standing on his side as the black haired boy grits his teeth and says something, frustrated. Donghyuck shakes his head and runs a soothing hand on his backside. Mark can see how Jeno relaxes substantially at the touch. He doesn’t stay there for long, knowing that Jeno needed a moment of reassurance before he put his eye-smiling face on. His ego had taken quite the beating despite his slips on the stage being nothing that stemmed from his shortcomings or lack of skills.

The greatest of dancers would eat dirt if they were forced to dance on a polished stage while it is raining. Nonetheless, Mark understands Jeno’s desolation, he would be disappointed too, if he slipped that many times but Mark quietly wishes that Jeno would focus on the number of times he got up, rendering every fall as just a bump on the radar.

Jeno’s too quick to judge himself. He’s strong, so strong on the outside and Mark knows it is true too, to a certain extent. He’s the one who hugs you one-handedly when you’re having a bad day but doesn’t want human contact, the one who seeks you out and cracks a bro joke and gives you a smile, his eyes turning into hyphens, the one whom you can always trust to go to for a hug, no questions asked. He likes the validation too, likes hearing that he’s doing well, likes knowing that he’s helping, likes knowing he’s getting better at stuff he wasn’t so good at before.

That’s where Donghyuck comes in because Donghyuck has a mouth with a filter that works only when he wants to and with Jeno, he never uses it. He makes sure to praise everything he sees in Jeno, keeps him close and goes to him for cuddles even with someone like Mark who loves him with his whole life, makes sure to hum into his neck and rub behind his nape and yell love confessions at him across the street when they’re coming from the studio to their dorms on foot on the rare days they walk home. He never judges him for having cats even when he’s allergic, tells him he’s so kind, the kindest, the sweetest for having a heart made of gold, makes him feel like the best person on planet Earth and tells him that he’s everything a person would ever want with a pointed gaze at Jaemin.

And Mark smiles because he sees what he’s doing and he loves him all the more for it.

Mark makes his way back to the dressing room, chest a little hollow from not being able to help Jeno but mostly just satisfied because Donghyuck has got them covered, all of them, regardless of age.

When they return to the room, Jeno is smiling wide, waving away the concerns of everyone, finding himself cuddled against Doyoung’s chest. Donghyuck leaves his best friend with the hyungs and walks towards Mark, settling in next to him, hand smoothing over the knee that hit the stage, frowning.

“Does it hurt?” Donghyuck asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“A little,” Mark says. Donghyuck nods, keeping on tracing circles on his knee and Mark cans the urge to tell him that he’s probably just making his skinny jeans soak up the pain reliever spray that the medic had put on him.

Donghyuck stays by him till they’re called out for the encore stage. But once they start waving at the fans, Donghyuck plasters himself to Jeno’s side, barely moving away from him, eyes cautious and fixed either on the black-haired boy or their fans.

Mark smiles at Yukhei’s gestures on the screen, ears ringing with the sound of applause and Donghyuck nowhere in his line of vision.

When he sees him next, several minutes later, the younger boy is helping Jeno down the stairs, simultaneously keeping an eye on Jisung who carefully steps down with the help of Chenle and Johnny.

 

***

 

Mark feels his veins thrum with anticipation and anxiety, their showcase stage lit up with different spectrums of light just a few feet away. Sicheng is passively looking at Yuta and Taeil, the eldest looking confused as the Japanese man repeats a phrase over and over. Mark shakes his head and looks around, fingers running over the mic attached to his face, the tape on his cheek pulling at his skin when he tries to warm up his voice.

Johnny’s laughter resounds in the room and Doyoung pinches the elder in the side to what possibly was a jab to his ego. Mark flicks his gaze to Jaehyun who’s humming to himself, lost in some world inside his head and he shakes both his hands.

It’s then that he notices what or rather who exactly he was looking for. Donghyuck, who isn’t here.

“Hyung, where’s Donghyuck?” He asks Taeyong, who’s getting his hair done, the makeup noona turning to the desk and grabbing another brush.

“He wanted to make a call? Look for him outside,” Taeyong instructs, wide-eyed, with a steady voice.

Mark hurries out the door and hopes Donghyuck isn’t stupid enough to snoop around when they’re not allowed to because there are hundreds of fans outside, their screams piercing his ears, Cherry Bomb playing to occupy them as they wait for their performance. He meets their manager on the way down the hallway but doesn’t ask him for the maknae’s whereabouts because the elder man looks distressed and he doesn’t want to worry him.

He finds Donghyuck leaning against a wall in the unoccupied green room next to the room where the sound equipment was kept before it was all carried outside and Donghyuck holds up a finger to him, one hand still holding his phone. He looks nervous but he’s half-yelling reassurances and humming Go and then proceeds to sing one of his lines as if he’s correcting the notes that the person on the other end is singing.

It takes a moment because Mark is still rapping his verse in Chain inside his head but it finally dawns.

Renjun.

Donghyuck’s talking to Renjun.

Mark had hung up on Yukhei just about an hour ago after giving him some tips to carry out his verse. Mark’s certain that Yukhei will do well but in between his concerns for Yukhei, he had forgotten about Renjun who was given a chunk of Donghyuck’s lines which are easily the riskiest parts in Dream’s tracks.

Mark hates the fact that they cannot perform with the rest of them at the SMTown concert but that’s just how NCT is, that’s how they’ve been trained, to be at multiple places at once, born out of a limitless concept, a novel revolution in the field of Kpop but expectations are hard to meet yet they must be because they are the products of SM, the descendants, the successors, the next in line of the legendary artists of their company.

Mark understands that Renjun must be under a lot of pressure but Donghyuck is out here doing one among a million things he does best and Mark is, once again, so moved, so in awe of his perception skills because Renjun would never reach out, not like that, always putting up a strong front for them until he’s poked and prodded at and he’s certain that Donghyuck knows that but unlike Mark who keeps quiet and waits to see if they’d handle it on their own and messes up the timing for an intervention, Donghyuck knows just the perfect time to jump in and pull them ashore.

Mumbled reassurances and soft hyping up doesn’t work on Renjun, not unless you are Jeno and Jaemin but the pair of them can never pull Renjun out when he’s like this, doubting himself and hesitant to believe in the power his voice holds. This, Donghyuck knows, and Mark watches as the boy yell-compliments the Chinese boy who is probably stuck in a room, worrying his bottom lip, formulating the most hideous of ways in which this ends.

Renjun and Donghyuck are the feistiest in Dream, fighting fire with fire, daring and brave but not fearing to get down and dirty in the literal way when things get too much and all they can find comfort in is a good prank executed just right. They are fiercely protective, the perfect team but they never let each other see the vulnerable parts because that would break the illusion, the YOLO thing they have going on and it’s fair, especially since their group thrives due to the differences in dynamic and this is just perfect, just so imperfectly right.

Mark stares at him for a good few minutes until Donghyuck hangs up with a small smile but just at that exact moment, their manager comes looking for them, letting out a sigh of relief and scolding them for having gone out of the dressing room without telling him. Mark almost tells him that he’d seen him just a few minutes ago but the elder man looks visibly shaken, so he decides against it and just bows his head, listening to him chew them out, Donghyuck smiling at the ground even as the elder man rambles on.

“Sorry, hyung,” Donghyuck says, softly and Mark sees their manager deflate, all the anger leaving his shoulders, muttering a fond _Brat_ under his breath and Mark stops the laugh from bubbling out of his mouth because they are all wrapped around the fingers of their sun.

When he turns to Donghyuck, the younger boy entwines their fingers together, squeezing it once.

“Renjun?” He asks, just to fill the silence.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck affirms.

 

***

 

Unlike most days, today Donghyuck had refused to get up when Mark and Jaehyun tried, whining for Yuta, sleepily mumbling that he wanted good luck in Japan, going off on a rant about how it was only possible with the involvement of a certain Japanese man. Yuta had surrendered and woken up Donghyuck, nearly dragging him out of bed and pushing him into the bathroom, the younger boy giving him a toothy grin as Yuta shook his head in disbelief.

Mark had snorted at Yuta literally hauling a clingy Donghyuck at the airport, the younger boy refusing to back down even after seeing the fan sites ensemble ready with all their heavy digital cameras and HD camcorders. The Japanese man has strangely been very accommodating of Donghyuck, even going so far as glaring at Jaehyun when he tried to get the maknae to back away from the elder man.

Mark found the situation hilarious, encouraging Johnny who was barely even trying to hide the fact that he was filming them.

After they settle down in their designated seats, Mark pulls out his earphones and navigates to his music library, simply pressing the shuffle button and letting the music fill his ears. He can see Yuta and Donghyuck if he twists around in his seat, the pair awfully clingy today.

Jaehyun nearly elbows him when he bends down and grabs his phone. Mark startles and curses loudly, gaining some pointed looks from the rest of the passengers.

He hears Donghyuck giggle under his breath, ever the spawn of the devil.

Jaehyun’s fingers are looped with Doyoung’s, his thumb stroking the other’s pale knuckles, both of them watching a movie. Mark finds himself staring at their entwined hands for longer than what is considered appropriate and almost zones out, the lyricist in him whooping victoriously. He opens up a plain document on his phone and types a rough skeleton of two verses down, mentally cursing himself for having forgotten his songbook at the dorms.

Jaehyun gives him a knowing look from the corner of his eye and Mark raises an eyebrow back at him because he’s not the one playing finger hockey with another man. Jaehyun only smirks in response before his eyes soften when Doyoung gasps softly at some jump scare in the movie.

Mark shrugs and gives the lyrics a once over before closing the window, leaning back on the seat in hopes of getting some shut-eye. He turns to chance another glance at Donghyuck. It’s then that he notices the air-hostess stop beside their seat, handing them some tissues and bowing slightly before walking away. He watches Yuta wipe his face with a mass of tissues crumpled in one hand, the other hand firmly encased in Donghyuck’s smaller ones, the younger boy’s head resting on Yuta’s shoulder.

Mark opens the text box.

 **_Hyuckie_ ** _11:34 AM   Is Yuta hyung okay?_

 **_Mark hyung_ ** _11:35 AM   He is. He jst felt a lil overwhelmed. :((_

Mark twists around in his seat and sees that Yuta is mirroring Donghyuck’s previous position now, head resting on the younger’s shoulder. Donghyuck is smoothing down the faded grey purple strands on the elder’s head and Mark sends him a reassuring smile, a little encouragement just in case Donghyuck needs it.

Donghyuck smiles back, one part grateful, one part happy and one part indecipherable.

Mark silently sighs as he relaxes against the thick, comfortable seat under his body for the rest of the flight.

He dreams about the sun.

 

***

 

As much as he knows Sicheng is an enigma, so many more of his sides, his quirks, his unique eccentricities, unknown and hidden away from the rest of them, Mark has always been fond of him. When you’re in a group consisting of members who joined like hitchhikers on a highway that led to fame and limelight and more than all that, a stage or multiple stages for you to showcase your talent, it’s natural to be closer to some members more than the others. Mark is guilty of it too, sticking close to his core group while keeping the best of rapport with the others, reaching out only when it’s necessary, for their good or his, because he’s always so goddamn busy that he doesn’t have time, teenager years drifting past at an incalculable speed, his thin legs struggling to catch up even if he tries his best.

Perhaps that’s why, out of all the members he sees Donghyuck with, caring for them, laughing with them, comforting them, he gets jealous when Sicheng is involved, not of the elder man but for their sun for being so bright that no one, not even this man who is a little distant, a little far away from the rest of them because of a language barrier, who dances like he’s born to do just that, can ever say no to his seemingly permanent bright eyed and bushy tailed existence.

Mark has tried so many times before, still tries to get close to the Chinese man when his head is not vomiting lyrics at him or dying to squeeze out another rhyme, a unique one, one more, just another. But it never ends up quite as successful as Donghyuck’s attempts do. The way the laughter bubbles out from Sicheng’s mouth when Donghyuck cracks a joke is something Mark can never do and has long admitted to himself as being one thing among many that he isn’t “capable” of doing.

So he settles for watching. For _seeing_.

Because when he looks at the both of them, Sicheng and Donghyuck, it’s like having the two best possibilities, the two best contradictions, right in front of his eyes, one an enigma, with parts he’ll never get to see and the other a book, a life, a love that is entirely Mark’s, with all the parts he will always need, will always come back to, will always be happy to cling tighter to.

The music video shoot of Chain has just officially ended, the director’s deep baritone yelling “Cut” slicing through the professionalism that they are programmed to assume falling away like a second skin. Donghyuck is happily chattering away with Sicheng who is looking fondly at him, eyes sparkling like he’s watching a child blabber away and it tugs something inside Mark.

Donghyuck sneaks up behind Doyoung and blows air into his ears, sprinting to Sicheng and hiding behind him, using his body as a shield. Doyoung runs to Sicheng and tries to catch the little devil so that he can pinch his ear or tackle him or whatever he’s planning to do but Sicheng freezes and puts a hand out, gaze serious.

“Hyung, let him,” he says and it’s quietly uttered but it rings loud and clear.

Mark sees Doyoung do a double take and he’s about to say something but he’s whisked away by Jaehyun for something else.

Sicheng withdraws into himself and Mark runs a hand through his hair, taking off his jacket at the stylist’s demand, gaze fixed on the pair a few feet away from him.

“Will he… do you think he minds, Hyuck-ah?”

It’s Donghyuck’s turn to do a double take, tilting his head like a cat before his mouth forms an O and Mark snorts because as much as Donghyuck is perceptive, he is a lost cause at times too, rarely so, but it happens.

“Of course not. He was probably shaken by your visuals, hyung,” Donghyuck says, smiling widely, eyes crinkling at the corners, teeth peeking out just a little.

Sicheng smiles back and Mark hopes that Donghyuck knows how grateful the Chinese man is to have him by his side because it’s so clear, so palpable in the veil of mystery that so often glazes over his eyes.

 

***

 

With Mark.

With Mark, Donghyuck is not just the sun, he’s just… _he’s everything_.

He’s the boy with the baby fat clinging to his cheeks who pissed him off enough to make him want to leave SM forever in a moment of childish weakness, the boy who looked at him with teary eyes, so delighted for him even if he wasn’t debuting with him, the one who ran from the office to their dorms just to hug him tight and sob into his neck because he’s finally debuting with him, the same one who calls him out on the stupid shit he does, who unabashedly laughs at him when he’s doing a bad impersonation or cries with him when he sits with his knees tucked close to his chest, the cold night air leaking into their room.

He’s the love you wish you had but you don’t because you don’t have the privilege to hug him close to your chest or press your lips to the sensitive skin of his neck or his plush, soft lips simply because you aren’t who he’s in love with, because he’s in love with Mark and will forever remain so, undeniably, irrevocably in love with him as long as the Earth breathes and the sun shines.

For Mark, Donghyuck is more than just his friend or his boyfriend or his love or his soulmate.

For Mark, Donghyuck is that person who’d put everyone else before himself and that’s why Mark knows he has to, with a need that burns like hellfire, take care of him because even if Donghyuck is independent and self-sufficient and a million other words in the dictionary, he’s also fragile and he trusts Mark to be there and he’d be damned before he forgets that.

A small little detail, Mark thinks, as he hears footsteps outside the room he shares with Doyoung, the elder man’s bed suspiciously empty, Donghyuck wrapped around him like a koala. He hears someone snickering and moves a bit to kiss Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Happy birthday, Hyuck,” Mark wishes because ever since he was fourteen, even if Jeno thinks he is the first to wish Donghyuck, it has always _always_ been Mark who has wished him first.

“Competitive brat,” Donghyuck mutters, smiling, eyes still closed.

And the saga of Donghyuck catching Mark by surprise continues as it’s meant to be.

But as much as he is Mark’s, he knows that Donghyuck belongs to them too, that he’s not meant to be bound because he has so much love inside the petite length of his body and his spacious heart, enough to go around for all of them and then some, because he deserves to soar, because the sun belongs in the sky and Mark truly believes that that’s where Donghyuck’s home is.

Even then, like he's always done, he’ll hold on to his sun.

_Their sun._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos keep me warm in the cold. Yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Crimsun_) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Crimsun)


End file.
